Orion's father Arcturus was about as dissimilar to the elder Cygnus as he could be without not being a Black. Crude, irreverent, and with a highly inapposite sense of humour, his favourite occupation was the pursuit of women, wine and good food. His magnetic attraction to most witches had always been an utter mystery to Walburga. Physically, he was completely unprepossessing; shortish, balding, and shrivelled like a prune. What she disregarded was the brightness of his darting eyes, the good-natured quirk of his mouth, and the lively colour to his cheek.
Walburga had had little intercourse with him until a rather disconcerting incident that took place shortly before her marriage. He had come to talk to her father about finding a wife for Alphard or Cygnus.
"So, cousin, tell me about this filly of Rosier's," he began.
"Well, Arcturus, I think she'd make a suitable wife for either of the boys. Father was quite keen on the match, as you know, and the family is certainly pure enough," responded Pollux.
"Then that's well & good, I suppose. But tell me, how did you like her figure?" asked Arcturus, illustrating the question with a vulgar gesture.
"Oh – I...ahem…didn't really notice, cousin," replied the embarrassed Pollux.
"You didn't? You should've, Pollux dear. Do you want your son married to some ugly, shapeless lump?"
"Well, she was a nice, clean looking girl, I'm sure." replied Pollux, getting steadily pinker.
"Oh, the Rosiers are always very pretty, blonde hair, wishy, white faces, all that. But let me tell you something, cousin dearest, one man to another. The first thing you should notice about a woman is her eyes," he stated blandly.
His cousin seemed relieved. "Oh…yes, a very sound maxim, Arcturus. She had very nice, limpid blue eyes."
"Then, when you can be sure the eyes are averted, take note of her breasts," he giggled.
Pollux was so shocked that he didn't respond at all. The nineteen year old Walburga, who had been sitting in stern silence at the window, engaged in embroidery, coughed delicately.
Arcturus' head whirled about. "Ah, if it isn't my dearest, favourite niece! Come here, darling, and give your old uncle a kiss."
Walburga approached, and coldly pecked Arcturus on the cheek.
"Oof! I could almost feel the vinegar on that. Tell me, Walburga dear, do you look forward to marrying our little boy?" he enquired.
"I shall do my utmost to be a wife befitting the family, uncle." she retorted. Her father smiled proudly.
"Oh, don't be stuffy with me, darling. I could hardly wait for my own wedding night. In fact…I don't think I waited at all. Hee!"
"Arcturus! Hush! The poor girl's still so innocent." interjected Pollux.
"You dream on as you like, Polly, you'd be surprised at all they learn at school. And I don't just mean from those ghastly old teachers," retorted Arcturus. "Now, if you don't mind, I have an urgent appointment with a very pretty barmaid at the Leaky Cauldron, and it is the height of bad manners to be late for such assignations. Goodbye, cousin, and you, Walburga." So saying, he leapt up spryly, kissed the startled Walburga on both cheeks, shrugged on his sinuous black cloak, and walked out the door.
Walburga exploded. "Really, father, I do not know how you tolerate that vile creature. Family he may be, but never have I met a Black who lived up to the name less than he did."
"Careful, Walburga, or you may find that boast offset in some particularly unpleasant way," said Pollux.
"No, father, I'm quite serious. His habits are disgusting in every respect! Ever since Aunt Melania died giving birth, he's been absolutely incorrigible, I'm told. Barmaids and singers and whatnot! Its revolting." snapped Walburga.
"My dear, I know he comes across as rather direct, but he has a good heart, and is really quite sweet when you get know him," answered Pollux.
"Get to know him! I certainly hope not. With any luck, he'll have died by the time I marry Orion, preferably of something malignant."
"Walburga! How dare you? I understand that you dislike him, but he's family, and more than twenty years your senior." Pollux was genuinely wound up, something that seldom happened. Walburga realised that she had crossed a line.
"Yes, father. I apologise."
"We'll say no more about it. Now, it's almost time for dinner. Go and get dressed, dear. Oh, and I think you'd better not tell your mother or brothers that he was hear. I don't want to make anyone apprehensive."
"Of course not, father." Walburga walked out of the room, leaving her father to his own devices.
x.x.x.
Later in the day, she sat alone in her room, brooding sourly. Her poor grandfather, who had died the previous year, would have turned in his grave had he witnessed the day's incident. What was the world coming to? Orion, at least, was a nice, well behaved boy. But so young! And as for that other thing that grandmother had mentioned...she shuddered. It didn't bear thinking of. To engage in the act would be to lower herself to the level of an animal. Never mind that, she still wasn't quite sure what the act actually was, only that it was extremely unpleasant. Alphard, who was by now quite the expert, had once tried to enlighten her, but ended up receiving a hiding from their grandfather's riding crop.
"You'll learn some day, Alphard, that what is fit for discussion somewhere is...er...quite unfit for it...ahem...elsewhere," he ended lamely. "Anyhow, it's hardly the sort of thing to discuss in front of a lady."
And that, thought Walburga crossly, just about summed up their attitudes, the conceited pigs.